To Hunt, and To Kill
by SolitaryHowl
Summary: We sung a song of triumph – the song of the wolf. It is the Law of the Wild – to kill or be killed. And we will uphold that Law - no matter the cost. [Oneshot; wolf pack perspective.]


A/N: An older work of mine. Depicts a pack of wolves, struggling to survive in the wild. Story is told in the POV of the wolf pack, so descriptions are based upon their observations.

**To Hunt. To Kill.**

The body was still warm.

We must savour the taste. Savour the meat.

But we must eat it quickly for time is running short. Greedy ravens swarm the skies above us, wanting to peck at our delicious prize. We wouldn't let them – it was ours. We hungrily tore apart the meat and howled in pleasure at the successful hunt. We sung a song of triumph – the song of the wolf.

It is the Law of the Wild – to kill or be killed. And we will uphold that Law.

We continued to devour the warm fleshy meat. The meat that filled our bellies and gave us life.

But we did not know what lurked around the corner.

We tensed until it showed itself. We could not smell it because of the wind direction; but it was there.

It was watching us; observing us.

Our ears perked. It sounded big and it was moving this way.

Run. We must flee to safety. But the leaders looked us in the eye. Told us to stand our ground.

We did. For it was the Law to obey the leaders of the pack.

Without warning, a whirring mass of brown fur charged from the underbrush. It stood up and opened its giant maw – its sharp teeth gleaming in the light.

The sound that came from its mouth was horrifying; Earth shattering and shook us to our core.

It was advancing towards the meat. We have to protect the meat.

But the leaders looked at us.

No; we must run. We must escape.

So we did.

We ran from the food and from the terrifying brown monster. We ran to safety of the den; for we must secure the survival of the future young.

There was no doubt in our minds; it was horrifying.

It was trouble and would spell doom for us.

We were hunting. Trying to survive. Trying to kill. When the prey took one of our own.

All it took was a kick to the head. The dominant female lay motionless; never to run through the forest again, never will feel the wind or the rush that followed.

The young will starve to death. Nobody to take care of them. Nobody to feed them. Nobody to teach them.

The dominant male is sad. We all are sad.

But we must move on. We must survive.

The male leader lifted up his head. A mournful cry echoed. It spoke of sorrow, of loss, and of life.

We answered with our own cries. We are sad. We are scared. But we will survive. We must survive. It is the Law.

A sudden cry. An unexpected wail and yelp. The dominant male was in trouble. We ran. We ran to save him.

But we were too late. He had stumbled onto dangerous land.

We were scared. We didn't want to lose Him too.

The land bubbled and oozed. It was brown. But it was hot. Burning; like the orange serpents we were told to avoid. The pit smelled of Death.

Father tried to flee; tried to escape the lands' grasp on him. He yelped, he cried. He whined.. He tore the edge of the soft ground with his front paws. He wailed in desperation. We tried to help, but none of us dared to step into it. For we knew we would meet the same fate.

But his struggle was in vain. The land swallowed him whole. We were sad to let him go. But it was the Law to survive no matter the cost.

No matter the cost.

We, united as a pack, as brothers and sisters, howled our sorrow into the darkening night.

No matter...the...cost.

But we realized that Our family was doomed. Our family was shattered.

With nobody to lead us, to guide us, we were lost.

It was hard to believe. Mother and Father were gone – taken by Nature – and we were alone.

We were still young. We did not have enough experience to survive.

But we have to. We must survive.

We said goodbye to each other and left in search of mates of our own.

We were sad to let the family break apart. But it was the law to survive. And we will uphold that law.

We will survive; no matter the cost.

/

A/N:

Explanation time!

Yes: the short, sporadic sentences are intentional.

The mother wolf (dominant female) was kicked in the head by prey. (Be it elk, bison, doesn't matter.) She died. The pups/young will die because nobody will be able to feed them. They are not completely weaned yet. So, that's a tragedy in itself.

Then, the father wolf (dominant male) fell into a mudpot while 'mourning' the death of his mate. Mudpots are, to put it simply, very hot mud. The mud bubbles, boils, and oozes.

The 'orange serpents' - that is fire. Obviously: wolves, being wolves, do not know it is called fire. They are referring to it as what it looks like: very hot snake-looking-things whipping around in the air.


End file.
